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RPlog:Troy and Joir
Staging Area -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena This is a large paved area open to the elements and surrounded by a towering chain-link fence complete with razor-wire. The area serves as the staging area for the Arena events, where racers and crews congregate, waiting their turn at the track. Several small buildings dot the landscape -- A pair of Repair and Upgrade shops and then the larger form of the Stable House. The Stable House being where riders that have a team or sponsor can house their swoop or congregate before a race etc. The Stable House is also where the racing commission keeps its offices. To the south are a pair of towering bay doors that serve as the entrance to the Raceway and to the North is a small access gate for riders and their teams to exit and enter the arena. There are a pair of StarShield Marines patrolling this area. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Troy => Leaderboard -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Staging Gate SG leads to Speedway Avenue - Plaxton City. Bay Doors BD leads to The Raceway -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena. Arch A leads to Stable House -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena. Garage Doors GD leads to Swoops n' More -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena. McTavish's M leads to McTavish's Swoop Repair Shop -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena. Tunnel T leads to Main Mezzanine -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena. Troy McTavish, is your typical country boy. He is 5'10 of average build, with dark hair (kept in a military cut), peircing Green eyes, and kinda cute in a boyish sorta way. There is not much that seperates Troy from anyother joe on the streets except for his good natured happy go lucky heart. He is always willing to lend a hand or talk for a spell at the local pup. His clothes are very plane, dominated by browns and greens. His boots have seen many many many many Km's. Troy sits on a box...going over a race program and smokes a cigar Joir approaches the staging gate and is stopped by a Starshield guard. He withdraws his sponsors identification pass, and smiles coldly at the guard who lets him through into the Staging area. Scanning the throng of mechanics and pilots he spots Troy, and makes his may briskly towards him. As you approach Troy you hear him Exclaim "Bahhh...they spelled Tir Nan Og Wrong...buggers.." In spite of himself Joir lets a slight smile past his cold mask, obviously ammused despite himself by Troys outburst. Quickly regaining his composure, he clears his throat to gain Troys attention, standing stiffly - cold grey eyes fixed forward. Troy turns towards the sound "Aye...what the hell..."seeing who is addressing him "Ohh sorry.."Stands and extends a hand "How Goes things in the Empire sir." Joir takes the hand, and shakes it confidently. He acknowledges Troy's inquiry with cold eyes and wry voice, "Good", although it is unclear whether things are actually good, or if he is indicating that the state of the Empire is really none of Troys business. Troy smiles and then adds to Joir's statement "Well thats not what i hear.." lets his voice betray he knows something Joir does not. If Joir is disturbed or his curiousity aroused by Troy's suggestive tone his blank expression and unwavering grey eyes hide it well. He withdraws a credit chip from his pocket, and taps it knowingly, voice remaining quietly confident although the reply is devoid of arrogance "What have you heard Captain?". Troy smiles slightly "Hehehe..well, i'll tell yeah the scutle but running around the military types..i have ta save the good stuff for the Admiral. "Winks and says "He pays more..it seems that Caspar has gone on a sort of alert..it would seem we are preparing for a civil war from within the Empire..." Smiles "Heck we even heard rumours of a possibly attack on caspar by this Unruley faction from with in." puffs on his cigar. As Joir realises the extent of what Troy is suggesting he begins to clench and unclench his jaw tightly, his cold grey eyes narrowing. Despite his continued emotional control it is obvious that this news has impacted Joir. In one smooth movement he flicks the credit chip in the air, where it flies neatly towards Troy. With his jaw set at a harsh angle he speaks again, voice strangely quiet although his voice has grown more forceful, carrying with it the unconcious authority a life of command brings "Do you have proof?" Troy smiles and nods "Of course i have proof..but that my friend is for the Admiral..cause it points to who is the cause i belive.." then giving a head toss to Joir "Lets go inside my shop, and meet my new assistant." Joir accepts Troy's statement with no more than a nod, a lifetime of 'need to know' has prepared him to accept that some information is beyond even his current position. Turning on his heel he follows Troy into his shop, steps as precise as a parade ground instructor. McTavish's Swoop Repair Shop -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena McTavish's Repair Shop is the picture of order. The floors are well maintained and clean, with barely a hint of oil or other substances on it. The walls show several certificates showing excellence in maintenance in the Swoop industry. There is a picture of Troy McTavish beside his swoop the Tir Nan Og, and a door leads to a private room in the back. A touch of cigar smoke seems to hang in there air, even though there is nobody around smoking one. This shop has an inviting feel; from the comfortable couches to the large coffee pot that is open to all. In bold letters near the top of one wall is a message that sums up the motto of the repair bay; 'WE'RE NOT HAPPY UNLESS YOU'RE HAPPY' -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Troy => Azya => SWOOP: Skyreaver X2 -- Sublight Queen => SWOOP: Skyreaver X2 -- Tir Nan Og => McTavish's Repair/Upgrade Terminal -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Out leads to Staging Area -- Black Krayt Swoop Arena. Troy walks into the shop with Joir Slightly behind him and giving Azya a nod. and then talking to Joir "This is my shop..and that is my new Assistant." him. Azya looks up, eyeing the newcomer critically for a moment before she smiles. "Hello Troy. Sir." She nods politely to one, then the other. Azya Sparkling emerald green eyes gaze unsettlingly at you from under a thick curtain of black lashes. Her full red lips curve easily and often into a smile. Wild hair, an unusual shade of bright purple fading to a black at it's tips, cascades down to her lower back, framing her face. It's colour is striking, making her creamy complexion seem almost pale. Her slim figure is covered by a low-cut, form-fitting black cat-suit. She wears a loose black jacket over that, undone. It reaches to just above the bottom of her rib-cage. Around her waist she wears a loose black belt, which rests on her hips, its silver buckle well polished. Knee-high boots hug her calfs, completing her outfit, their heels a respectable 2". Troy gives Azya a slight smile "could yeah get us some coffee.." points to the machine and then motions for Joir to have a seat on one of the comfy couches, "Have a seat Sir...make your self comfortable." Azya nods, heading towards the coffee machine, quietly pouring two cups of coffee. Looking up, she tips her head slightly. "Cream or sugar?" As Joir enters the repair shop his cold grey eyes quickly scan the room, noting with some approval the clean ordered manner in which the facility is kept, to some extent reaching the level of Imperial efficiency. As the young woman speaks he turns to face her, face remaining impassive as he takes in her figure. He bows slightly to acknowledge her presence, and replies with a quiet confident voice "Miss" he turns back to Troy and takes the proffered seat. Joir looks up towards Azya, and gives her a cold smile "Black, two sugars, thankyou" He turns back to Troy, and nod cold intense eyes communicating silent thanks for the services which Troy has provided. He indicates the credit chip that he gave Troy earlier and asks quietly "The fee?" Troy smiles and gives Azya a wink "I'll have a mine black..and yeah can pour your self one if'n yeah like.." he then walks over to the Tir Nan Og "Yeah see her Sir.. "Adressing Joir "This Swoop is the Current track record holder..and i am the pilot..." this he says proudly and then to Joir's last statement he just nods and contiues "Nothing can touch her or me on the track." Azya prepares the coffees, picking them up and delivering them to each man. Shaking her head slightly as she listens to Troy, she heads back to the table and pours herself her own coffee. Adding both cream and sugar, she gives it a short stir. Turning around, she leans against the table, crossing one ankle over the other, holding her cup in both hands. Troy accepting the Coffee from Azya he pulls out a flask from under his Vest, and adds some to his Coffee.."Yeah gotta make it bit thought.." Joir accepts the coffee with a nod, then shifts his focus to look at the unusually named swoop, and gives Troy a questionning glance "Another talent Mr McTavish?" turning his head towards the doorway he nods his head towrd the other swoop repair shop which is visible through the front window and asks "How about the Hornets? " then adds with some humor "I hear they have a good sponsor" Azya blows quietly on her coffee, to all appearances obsorbed in cooling it. She stares down into the cup before taking a small sip. Wincing slightly as it burns her tongue, she blows on it some more Troy laughs slightly "Yeah...not as good as mine...difference is i'm a better manager." and then almost coldly he says "I always win." Joir flicks his glance back to Troy, cold grey eyes locking intensly on the self-proclaimed champion. He inclines his head slightly and then replies with a flat voice "So do I Captain" he repeats himself, allowing his tone to become more threatening, although it is not obvious whether the threat is directly at Troy or at the galaxy as a whole "So do I" Tracer enters from the Staging Area. Tracer has arrived. Dak enters from the Staging Area. Dak has arrived. Dak is following Tracer. Tracer This human is fairly petite at only 5'4", with a boyish figure. The build is muscular and the walk has a bit of a jaunty swagger, yet her small, feminine hands betray her gender. Short, spiky jet-black hair adds some height, but not much. Her posture is in the process of becoming more military, though she may have a late-adolescent slouch if she's not thinking about it. Under delicately arched brows, ice-blue eyes exhibit a tell-tale spark of intelligence. Her pleasantly attractive face has a strong chin. Freckles are lightly sprinkled across the bridge of a rather cute nose, which wrinkles if she allows herself to smile. She bares no other sign of sun exposure on her fair skin. By the odd combination of her lack of height and the noticeable hardness of her expression, she can look to be either 13 or 30 but she is probably about 19 years old. Currently off-duty, wears a slightly oversized black leather jacket embossed with an avian design on the back and aviator-styled, mirrored sunglasses. Her lithe figure is clad in a tight, white sleeveless top which reveals the muscled shoulders and arms of her wiry frame. Fitted black slacks with a wide leather belt, shiny black dress shoes, and a small, fashionable backpack for her personal accessories complete her outfit. Dak A young sandy-haired man of 23, Dak has light eyes that shine with youthful enthusiasm. He is tall by human standards, and indeed he is human. He seems to have a light air to him, not concerned with the more complicated things in life, though there is certainly a slight but faint shadow in him, some anger perhaps that he holds in, some hurt that he denies exists. But elsewise he seems an ordinary Casper man with a touch of friendliness. Troy smiles "good then.." and nods something that is unsaid "So Yeah enjoying being part of the Swoop industry.." then seeing he has company he turns and smiles. Joir nods to answer Troy's question, replying with cold irony "Yes, it makes a change from the _usual_". He turns his head as the two newcomers enter the room , sizing both up with a quick cold glance. He gives a half nod in greeting, but remains sitting comfortably on the sofa. Troy gives Tracer a quick smile "Hello again..and who's your friend." Azya glances at the two new entrants into the room, giving each a calculating look before returning to her coffee. Tracer grins. "Um...this is my brother, Dak. Dak, this is Troy McTavish....he's the guy I was telling you about." Dak smiles and nods to the others in the area. "Hello. Nice to meet you." Troy extends a hand towards Dak "Don't belive a word she said..i'm am a nice guy.."Gives Dak a wink that he's just joking around and then points to the others in the room starting with Azya "That is my new personal assistant.."and then point to Joir "And he is a sponsor for.."laughs slightly "the competiton actually." Dak grins and scratches his head, a bit confused. "Ah, nice to meet you guys. Name's Dak, as ya know." Tracer smiles, raising an eyebrow slightly at Troy's title for the woman. She sizes up the man in black leather as well. "I'm Ellie Tracer. A new racer, I hope. FLS team." As Troy mentions Joir's name he raises his hand, indicating that he indeed is the competition. He turns to Troy and although his face remains set in its impassive mask his voice contains a questionning almost dry humor "Fresh meat for the grinder?". Azya smiles, nodding politely to both Tracer and Dak. With a soft chuckles at Joir's comment, she lifts the coffee to her lips, taking a tentative sip. When it doesn't burn her tongue this time she takes a longer sip Troy smiles and adds to Tracer's Statment "FLS is gonna through in with the Privateers....and tracer is going to be there number 1 pilot." and chuckles slightly at Joir's comment "yeah like ta wager on the next race.." Tracer eyes begin to wander over the swoops that populate the shop. "Well, I don't know about that Troy....so don't bet too much!" Dak laughs at Tracer's comment, though he;s not sure why. He turns to her and says, "El, which one's your's?" Joir takes the news about the FLS/McTavish deal with no visible reaction, his face remaining set in its cold (slightly arrogant) mask. At Troy's challenge he raises his eyebrows slightly and is about to speak when Tracer makes her comment, he turns and replies crypticly "I know a lot about the Captain, and _he_ is a safe bet" he turns and indicates the large teams boards outside the shop "Although I remain true to the Hornets" Azya sips her coffee, arching an eyebrow as she listens to the conversation. Troy smiles and says "well Tracer..not saying anything, but since Ben has not come up with anymoney yet..i was kinda betting on myself." and with a smirk "The Tracer smirks, a bit sheepishly first to Dak, then at Troy. "Yeah....well, I was hoping to talk to you about that, since Ben's been kinda scarce lately." She glances at the others, not wanting to go further at the moment. Joir stares convieniently into his cup, trying to suggest that he does not want to interfere. However he remains alert, listening carefully as if recording information for later use. Azya keeps her head down, but glances up at the others with her eyes. SHe continues to blow on her nearly-cold coffee. Troy motions for Azya to come over to him and then addresses Tracer "okay well..umm set up a time where we can talk alone.." and then turns to Azya "can yeah remind me so i dont go off some place and for get about Tracer here.." gives a wink to Tracer and then turns to Joir "So yeah interested in putting say...a bottle of Whiskey My team for your Team." Tracer gives a look to Dak, which implies she thinks it may have gotten too late in the evening to do business with McTavish. She shrugs and motions for him to come get a closer look at the rigs with her. Azya sets her cup on the table, and heads towards Troy. Nodding, she turns towards Tracer and smiles. "Well...let's see what works, hmm?" Dak follows Tracer and takes a closer look. Joir meets Troy's gaze evenly, and replies quietly "My _team_ will always be the true winners, I'll meet your bet" He emphasises team with a slightly strange voice, making the term somewhat ambigious as if he is referring to something bigger than swoops. He stands and extends his hand towards Troy stating confidently "The Hornets" Troy meets Joir's hand "Blah..the Privateer's will be drinking from ummm your whiskey shortly.." laughs "hrmmm acutally Tracer would yeah like ta talk now." Azya glances at Troy, and rolls her eyes. With a slight shrug, she heads to a nearby couch, quietly sitting. Tracer shrugs to Troy and Azya. "Well, only if you have time....I know it's kinda late, but it's been hard for me to get down here lately....and I really wanted Dak, here, to help me at least pick one out to put on hold....or something." Joir replies to Troys claim with an even, slightly sarcastic voice "Indeed MrMcTavish... indeed". He turns to nods to Azya, Tracer, and Dak "It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Im sure we may see each other again. Although it will be my team standing on the winners podium". Troy give Joir a slight smirk "We shall see.." and then turning to Tracer "Bah...its never to late...i never sleep." Tracer returns Joir's nod, though without a smile, only kind of a shiver. She watches him as he leaves. Troy and Joir